Dark Minds
by TonyAndLoki
Summary: When the consulting detective gets a threatening letter about Irene Adler's life at stake, he and John Watson must go on a long journey to Switzerland to safe her.


The ringing of a church bell echoed through London, announcing it was midnight. It was raining, for the past week, without pauses. The construction of a new bridge across the river Thames was empty, the building has been stopped. The city streets were empty as well, there was not a single person strolling along the brick houses. There were no cabs or carriages riding around, no stray dogs or cats, no beggars. Everyone was hiding from the heavy rain.

But there was somebody walking through a street. A lonely man, dressed in a dark coat and scarf wrapped securely around his neck, the clicking of his shoes echoing for miles along. His dark, almost black hair was hidden beneath a hat, his face decorated by a growing mustache and beard, his brown kind eyes squinted. The raindrops found their way to his hair, and got stuck on his impossibly long eyelashes as well. He was holding an umbrella in his hand, but he couldn't use it anyway because of the strong wind. He's been walking for quite a while now, about two hours maybe, being in the other side of London in this weather was inconvenient. Especially when he couldn't get a cab to take him home. So he just kept walking, crossing an old bridge while getting a good view at the construction of the new bridge. He stopped at a small bakery in a corner of a street, it was hardly noticeable, but there wasn't anything else open.

A small bell at the door rang, announcing a new customer was coming. A short man with a beard appeared behind the desk, glad someone has come inside at all.

„Hello, sir. How may I help you? Or are you here just to warm up?"

The stranger took of his hat and placed it on one of the tables that stood there, a soft smile forming on his face.„That as well, but I came to buy some bread."

„Right away, sir."

The short man reached in one of many shelves and got out a loaf of bread, wrapping it up in some old newspaper.

„Sorry, sir.", he apologized as he handed the bread to the stranger.„I don't have anything else to wrap it in. Is it OK with you or-"

„Yes, it's fine. Here you go." He fished in his pocket before tossing a few coins at the desk and putting his hat back on his head.„Have a good night."

With these words, he walked out into the rain, the bread hidden securely under his coat.

He made it home about half an hour later. Walking into a quite broad street, he looked up at the white sign of one of the houses as he always did.„Baker Street„ , it read. He stopped in the middle of the street and turned to one of many houses, searching for his key. Retrieving it, he stuck it into a golden lock of a black tall door with a small „221 B„ sign. Unlocking the door, he walked in, giving the soles of his shoes a quick brush against a mat. He walked up the stairs covered in a red, bleak carpet, creaking with every step he took. The walking upstairs has made him even more tired than he was, so when he reached the top, he supported himself by propping a hand against one white wall, trying to catch his breath. When he felt like continuing, he opened a brown wooden door of his flat, entering a quite big living room. It was nice and cozy, there was a fireplace with orange and red flames dancing inside it, some armchairs and a big leather sofa. He took of his coat and hanged it on a hanger, setting the bread down on a table. His hat joined his coat too, and soon the scarf as well. He started to unbutton his waistcoat when footsteps sounded, interrupting him.

Another man walked inside, slightly taller than the incomer, a mustache decorating his upper lip, blue and grayish eyes smiling. He sat down on one of the armchairs, bending his legs and looking up at his flatmate.

„Just let me ask a stupid question.", he started.„How did it take you three hours to get from Scotland Yard here, Holmes?"

The other man scoffed and sat down as well:„Well, Watson, for a start, there are no cabs. The whole city is dead. So I had to walk. But it is strange, though, that there had been many heavy rains like there, and the cabs were working, and suddenly, nothing. Oh, and I bought bread, as you requested." He motioned to the bread with his head.

„You had to walk? Seriously? You couldn't get Lestrade or other police officers to drive you here in the police carriages or something?"

Sherlock Holmes shook his head:„ Sadly, they were too busy investigating. I didn't mind walking, really. I would enjoy it, if it wasn't for the rain." He lighted a pipe. „Oh, well..", inhaling some of the smoke, he reached for yesterday's newspaper.

„Where did you buy the bread?", John Watson asked, raising an eyebrow.

„At a small bakery, about half an hour away. Nothing else was open."

„Right."

They sat in silence, Sherlock reading the newspaper and John just staring at the fireplace.

„Not going to sleep?",the doctor finally asked after a while.

Sherlock shrugged:„I should've go to sleep a long time ago."

„Yes, but.. it is your day off tomorrow, isn't it?"

„You never know what's awaiting. And you know me, Watson."

„Yes.", John laughed.„The great detective never sleeps. It is not healthy, you know. Staying up at nights, not sleeping for a whole week. You'll get ill and won't be able to continue working."

The detective folded the newspaper and looked at his friend with tired eyes.

„See? You are tired. Just this night, Holmes, really. You'll feel better. No, no, no.. no excuses. You haven't got a case, so you don't have a reason to stay up."

„If you insist.", Sherlock mumbled and slowly stood up, his legs suddenly feeling wobbly. He shuffled to his bedroom and closed the door, but not all the way, leaving a small space open.„Do wake me up if something happens!", he called.

„Good night, Holmes."

Sherlock took of his waistcoat and tie, tossing it aside. Unbuttoning his shirt, he crawled onto his bed, really feeling tired and somehow worn off. As soon as his head hit the soft pillow, his eyes closed and moments later, he fell asleep.

The doctor came to check on him a while later. Satisfied that his friend listened to him for once, he left the room and went to his bedroom.

It still rained in the morning. John woke up at about nine a.m.. He got up and dressed into his usual clothes. The living room was empty when he entered it, that made him confused… Sherlock is always awake before him. Furrowing his brows, he checked the hanger.. the detective's coat was gone, and so was his hat and shoes. He found a note sticked to the door to the living room. He peeled it off and read Holmes's messy handwriting:

_Dear Watson,_

_ as I know you always worry about me, I decided to leave you a note. I went out, as you may have noticed. A letter came yesterday. Irene Adler is in great danger. She has been kidnapped by a small group of men. One of them sent me the letter. You can find it on the dining table, so you can read it yourself. I didn't leave to find her yet, I just went to Lestrade. I will return by noon. I don't want to include you in this case if you don't want to. But if you do want to come, start packing warm clothes._

_ - Sherlock Holmes_

Frowning, John walked to the dining table and picked up a ripped envelope. Pulling a piece of paper from it, he unfolded it and began reading the letter.

_ Dear Mr. Holmes,_

_ for I am a very big fan of yours, I decided to arrange a little surprise for you. I will give you some basic information and some clues in this letter. Do not try to write a reply, you will not get an answer. A „friend„ of yours has fallen into my hands, and her life is at my stake now. Yes, it is a woman, and I am sure you don't -have many female friends. We are keeping her a prisoner. Why are we doing this? Simply because we want to get to know you and your amazing deducing skills. I won't give you many clues, because I am sure you will figure it on your own. She is in Switzerland, outside the city of Zürich. We wanted her to tell us some secret information, that is why we kidnapped her in the first place. But she won't tell us anything, so we are of course trying to make her talk every way we can every single day. She is getting weaker every day, so you should hurry up. You can only save her if you set yourself out to us. To make myself clear, we will not let her go unless your body is lying lifeless on the floor. _

_ Have a good day and do give us the pleasure of stopping by, otherwise she is dead in two months time,_

_ Your anonymous supporters._

Reading the letter over and over with widened eyes, John sat on a chair and took deep breaths. Why would someone threaten Sherlock Holmes? John was sure his friend had many enemies, but why would anyone want to kill him? In exchange for the life of Sherlock's love interest? He didn't understand. Then there was another thing… the deciding. Should he go or not? Should he risk his life again, or should he sit on an armchair while his friend gets killed somewhere in the mountains? It was the worst decision he ever had to make.

John sat for hours on that chair, holding the letter in his shaky hand, thinking. At the tolling of the Big Ben bell, he has decided. He has decided.. that he would go.

Sherlock Holmes came at one o'clock. Soaked through, his face full of worry, his eyes bloodshot and tired. He entered the living without a word, shrugging of his coat and sitting on the armchair. John stared at him.

„Did even sleep last night? At all?", he asked. Sherlock shook his head no.

„I spent all night thinking."

„Right. Of course you did. But you can barely stand, so off to bed."

The detective tilted his head:„Watson, have you even read the letter?"

„Yes, I have, many times."

„There is a life at stake! You can't expect me to take care of my health at a situation like this! I have to leave, I have to go now."

He stood up and started pacing nervously across the room.

„You told me to decide.", John said quietly.

„Huh? What?"

„In the note you wrote. You told me to decide. I decided, I am going with you."

Sherlock stopped and sat back down, looking at the doctor surprised and shocked.

„What did you just say?"

„You heard me very clearly, old pal.", John chuckled.„I am coming with you. You won't get rid of me that easily."

„Repeat one more time please, I think I have trouble hearing, because I just heard „I am coming with you.", Sherlock mumbled.„And you also called me old, I am not old."

„Yes, I did say that."

„What about your demanding fiancé?"

„She can live with it. I mean, she's used to it.", the doctor smiled and stood up.„Right, I've packed my things, you pack yours and then go to sleep. Deal?"

„Ha ha. No deal. I promise, I will try to sleep on the train."

„You will sleep trough the whole journey."

John brought his bags to the living room while Sherlock packed in his bedroom. He ran from room to room, gathering maps and bullets and finally finding his revolver, stacking it into his bag with other „important„ things.

„Don't forget to pack some clothes as well.", John laughed.

„I have packed some."

„Oh really? Another pair of trousers and a shirt? You have to pack more clothes, it's going to be cold."

An hour later, they were done packing. Sherlock went out to buy train tickets. He came back at five o' clock, announcing to John that their train is leaving tomorrow at five a.m. to take them to Dover, then they will catch a ferry across the La Manche canal, and then get on a train in Dunkerque, France, which will take them to Switzerland.

„Sounds exhausting.", John mumbled while looking at a map of Europe.

„Yes, well… they couldn't find a better destination.",Sherlock said, sitting down in an armchair and lighting a pipe.

„Well..I'm going to bed. We do have to get up early. Don't stay up long.",the doctor stood and patted his friend's shoulder before walking to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. Sherlock remained sitting on the armchair, studying a map and clutching the letter in his hand.


End file.
